Now don’t get me wrong, as a woman with a 2 year old who is entering my third trimester of pregnancy, exercise is a distant memory – I mean, my computer needed to autocorrect me as I tried to remember how to spell “Gym”. So yeah, I’m not the picture of fitness, but at one point, exercise was a big part of my life and I did dabble in the black arts of spin. When a friend of mine and I were chatting about our current hardships of moulding young minds while physically building a new one, I compared the first few months of a motherhood to taking spin. Here’s why:
Both rip your vagina to shreds leaving you walking like you just left a rodeo.
No matter what the day or situation, it always feels like you’re going uphill – you can’t recreate a downhill coast in a class setting and you can’t expect anything to ever be easy when it comes to being a parent.
Just when you think you’re about to crack and you can’t take it anymore, you get a water break or get to crank down the tension.
There’s the authority figure always looking to correct your form. Yes, I get it, I’m not doing EVERYTHING right, but I’m here, I’m showing up, and I’m making it through to the finish line!
There’s always other people who seem to have more energy, and that the class is coming easier to them. They’ve barely touched their sweat rag, meanwhile your across from them, with a pile of soaked through towels at your feet, salty sweat dripping in your eyes and fogging up your contacts, the mascara you put on to look semi presentable has now run down your cheeks so you resemble a Gotham City villain, and your swamp ass makes it look like you need potty training classes alongside your child.
And lastly, after 15 minutes of the class, you promise yourself that you’ll never come back, and yet, at the end, with a sense of accomplishment and a feeling of euphoria, not only will you be back for more, but you absolutely need to buy those strange clip in sneakers!
So buckle up mama’s and prepare to sweat it out, but in the end just know that you got this!